


Unrelenting Force

by DiamondScribe (orphan_account)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Tumblr: hannigramholidayexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5520386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DiamondScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 1 AU; Will and Hannibal are casually sleeping together, but Will has doubts about their budding relationship. Gift for lunchtop for the Hannigram Holiday Exchange</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unrelenting Force

Things between them are casual. 

At least, that’s what Will tells himself. The chemistry between he and his friend (a shaky term for what they are, considering that psychiatrist, coworker, and fuckbuddy are also on the list) has been obvious ever since he’d looked across that cheap motel table and noticed the maroon in Doctor Lecter’s eyes. Of course, he’d been distracted from that train of thought by the subsequent murder of Garrett Jacob Hobbs and his contraction of encephalitis, but even through the haze he found himself waking to thoughts of ridiculous cheekbones, broad shoulders, and hands that were far too calloused for a man of Hannibal’s profession. 

While it was nice to let his imagination loose on pleasant scenarios of what they could do together, Will told himself that it would never happen. Hannibal happens to be miles out of his league, and now, as Will climbs out of bed and glances back to watch Hannibal slumber on in the moonlight, their discrepancy is obvious. So he’d decided to solder on, told himself it wasn’t going to happen, and tried to go on with his life. 

And yet. 

Coming together had been entirely his fault. Maybe he could use the excuse that the half-forgotten minds of murderers in his head needed an outlet or that Hannibal had somehow manipulated him into doing it (because though the doctor seemed benign, Will realized early on that he was adept at turning situations to his favor), but he had been the one who shoved Hannibal against his own fridge and savagely yanked him down for a kiss. He had been desperate then, need pouring from him like a burst dam as he took what he needed from Hannibal, stole his breath away until they were both half hard and panting. Will doesn’t think he can ever forget the way Hannibal had cupped his face in those artistic hands of his and looked at him like he was something worth having around. 

Maybe that should have been his first clue that this wasn’t going to be something casual. Hannibal obviously isn’t a man that does anything in half measures, so why would relationships be any different? It isn’t like Hannibal brings him flowers or calls him pet names. It’s just… 

There’s something in the way he brushes against him as if on accident, their eyes meeting as their hands touch. Or the odd smile he gives when Will says something inadvertently amusing. Or the look in his eyes as he watches him, dark in an all-consuming hunger that takes Will’s breath away. 

It isn’t something Will can get used to. One never ‘gets used to’ Hannibal Lecter. It’s best for him to keep this casual, distance himself, and try his damnedest not to get overwhelmed. 

Even though he has the sinking suspicion that being overwhelmed by Hannibal would be one of the best experiences of his life. 

Shaking the thought away, Will tiptoes across the room to retrieve his clothing. Everthing had been tossed haphazardly on the armchair just a few hours ago, but somehow, they’re now neatly folded. Where the hell had Hannibal found the time to do that? Will suppresses a huff as he carefully picks out his jeans from the pile, moving slowly so he doesn’t wake his host. It’ll be like every other night. He’ll snag his clothes, slip out, and act like nothing happened the next day. It’s easy, simple, and painless, without any need for talk or lengthy goodbyes. 

“My home is open to you.” 

Well. Damn. 

Will pauses with his hands on his belt, not turning to face the bed. Seeing Hannibal there, naked and casual and ruffled in a way he usually never allowed would just be way too tempting. 

“I know that.”

It was best to be distant, yet kind; the last thing he wanted was to be reeled in again… 

“Then you know that you can spend the night, if you like.”

Now he definitely couldn’t turn around. That voice (husky and deep and a little scratchy from taking Will’s cock in one go) had him reconsidering his entire plan. Trying his best not to be deterred, Will just shook his head. 

He had nothing against spending the night in Hannibal’s arms, but he knew that if he fell for the urge, it would be a slippery slope from then on out. The process had already started. Just a few innocent breakfasts, a lunch or two, then dinners, then wine, then longing glances over the table… Where else was left to go for them, if not some sort of committed relationship? Will allowed himself a rueful smile at the thought. Now that would be a disaster. 

“And what would you like, Doctor Lecter?”

“Ideally, I would like for you to choose whichever option you deem to be the most comfortable.” Will stays still as he hears footsteps on the hardwood floor, not budging even as he feels a warm, solid body press up against him from behind. Hannibal makes no attempt to hide the fact that he’s breathing in the scent of his hair as he loops those strong arms around him, anchoring him close. “But if I’m being selfish, I’d prefer it if you stayed.” 

The offer is tempting. It’d be as easy as breathing, really. All he’d have to do is melt into him and let Hannibal do whatever he liked, let someone else make decisions and fuck the consequences. 

Fortunately, Will is stubborn. 

“I should head back. My dogs will be expecting me.” 

“It isn't such an unreasonable hour that Alana cannot be called.” 

“I can’t just call her in for everything. Besides, she-“ Will’s breath hitches as he feels lips press against the back of his neck. “She does enough for me already. She deserves a break.” 

“You fear that calling her would tip her off to our relationship. You want to keep what happens between us hidden. Filthy acts, only suited to darkness.” 

Will’s hands still on his belt as he feels Hannibal rocking against him. There it is, Hannibal’s easy sensuality reeling him in again. The spark in his belly banks into a proper fire as Hannibal’s cock rubs against his ass, as his roughened hands begin to undo the belt he’d struggled to do in the first place. It’d be so damn easy to let Hannibal take him again. 

“It isn’t hiding so much as keeping a professional distance,” Will protests, though it sounds weak to his own ears. Hannibal tuts his disapproval, his callouses rasping against Will’s skin as he drags his hand down his chest. 

“Is that what this is to you? Mere professionalism?” There is a sting of teeth against his shoulder, a possessive gesture. It’ll be just another mark against the many littered across Will’s body. He hadn’t minded them before, since Hannibal seems to enjoy them so much, but the symbolism finally occurs to him. Hannibal is claiming ownership.

“Is that not what this is?” Will asks just to be stubborn. In return, he earns blunt nails digging into his hip as Hannibal’s free hand completes its journey and cups his cock through his jeans. “Otherwise, that would make this unethical.” 

“There is nothing unethical about two adult men engaging in consensual, mutually beneficial sex.”

“There is when one man is the other’s psychiatrist.” Will is annoyed enough to finally pull away from Hannibal’s embrace, turning to face him. There’s something wrong about seeing him naked and ruffled and eyeing him expectantly, so Will zips his pants back up and gives a cursory struggle with his belt. “And somehow, I doubt this is mutually beneficial.” 

Despite his biting tone, Hannibal seems more curious than offended. There’s no way in hell the man should be able to keep his poise without hiding behind those three piece suits of his, but even in the nude he exudes the confidence of a man with nothing to hide. It’s as unnerving as it is arousing. 

“If you are unsatisfied with my performance, I would be more than happy to accept constructive criticism.” 

Will can’t help but laugh at that, because really? Like Hannibal Lecter would be less than perfect at something.

“Believe me, you’re the farthest thing from the problem.” He pauses, considers, and continues. “Well, not the farthest, but it still isn’t your fault. You can’t help it.” 

Hannibal’s lips purse in the way they do when he’s mildly disgusted, but too polite to say it. 

“You find yourself unworthy of me.”

It sounds so serious when he puts it that way.

“I wasn’t thinking of it quite like that, but essentially, yes.” Will shakes his head and turns away again, snagging his shirt. The issue is so glaringly obvious that he wonders why the hell Hannibal can’t see it. “Look at us, Hannibal. You enjoy operas, fine wine, and French cuisine. I’m a mildly unstable fisherman who isn’t comfortable unless there are at least two dogs in my home. We’re completely different people.” 

“We are more alike than you think.” 

Will is about to shake that off as an excuse, but he can’t ignore it when Hannibal snags his wrist and prevents him from putting his shirt on. Annoyed, he glances up to offer a sharp rebuttal, but… 

There’s something in Hannibal’s eyes. He isn’t sure what it is he sees, exactly, but the detachment is gone, and for a moment, he’s overwhelmed by the desperation, the need, the frustration that has his over-active imagination kicking at a mile a minute. The eye contact, once abhorrent to him, takes his breath away as his mind struggles to interpret just what he’s seeing. 

_He does not see how exquisite he is._

_He sees me._

_He knows me._

_He accepts me._

_I will make him see._

It isn’t pure empathy, but it’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s a moment that stretches on into infinity, before Hannibal’s expression smooths and it’s all over. Will stares at him a moment longer, still reeling from the influx. He isn’t sure what Hannibal is offering him, but he know that it’s too much, that if he isn’t careful he’ll be swept away in an instant. 

His chest feels tight as he swallows. 

“Let’s say we are,” he allows, needing to find his footing again. “What do you want from this?”

Seemingly encouraged by the question, Hannibal steps forward and sets his hands on Will’s hips. 

“As I said before, we have a mutually beneficial relationship. I am willing to be as discreet as you wish, so long that we remain open and honest.” 

Will snorts. As if he could be anything but honest with Hannibal. 

“Honesty isn’t the issue here. The issue is that I’ve got problems, Hannibal. Lots of problems. You deal with that enough at work; you don’t deserve to have that in home.” 

There’s the strangest sadness that passes across Hannibal’s face as he reaches up, cups Will’s face in his hands like the most delicate of china. It’s too tender, prompting Will to tense like a skittish animal, but he doesn’t pull away. 

“Mylimasis,” he sighs, brushing his thumb across Will’s cheek. “I do not ‘deal with you’. I enjoy you. You are exquisite; a knight in dusty leathers, a noble leader of men. Having you in my company is a great joy to me, no matter how less you think of yourself.” He presses closer, brushes kisses along his cheekbones, down his jaw, ghosting over bruises he left scattered along his neck. “Let me cherish you.” 

It’s too much. 

It’s too much, yet as Hannibal brushes his hands down back and cups his ass, it’s not enough. 

“Brangusis.” 

Will has no idea what he’s saying, only that it feels so damn good to have the words crooned against his skin as Hannibal maps out each mark he’s made on his shoulders, his chest, his legs. All he can do is brace himself, offering gasps and quiet moans each time Hannibal teases a hickey with his teeth. The bruises will be there for days to come, yet as Hannibal slides down to his knees and sucks a particularly livid spot into his inner thigh, Will finds that he can’t give less of a damn. 

“Aš tave myliu.” 

Hannibal gazes up at him as he takes his cock in hand, and for once, Will allows himself to look back and be washed away in the warmth he sees there. He licks his lips as Hannibal’s own brush up his shaft, one hand cupping his balls and giving a gentle squeeze. Hannibal moves as efficiently as he does in the kitchen, wasting no time as he grabs Will’s hips and parts his lips, trapping Will in his gaze as he slowly takes his cock into his mouth. 

It’s overwhelming in the most delightful way as Hannibal swallows around his cock, looking up at Will with such adoration in his eyes. It’s as if he enjoys nothing more than bringing Will pleasure, like he enjoys having blunt nails score against his shoulders and a rough hand yanking in his hair as he sucks and teases and squeezes in the most perfect way. The situation is so meaningful it’s almost funny; of course Hannibal would make sucking dick into some kind of sublime experience. 

Will's breathlessly laughing as he spills down Hannibal’s throat, though the sound deepens into a moan when Hannibal pulls off and licks a few stray drops from his lips. He’s still worried about being carried away or being such a massive burden that Hannibal will regret ever doing this, but as Hannibal rises to his feet and smiles at him, Will can’t help but feel like this is the one good thing in his fucked up life. 

“Perhaps next time, we should have this conversation over carpet,” Hannibal muses, wincing as his knees creak. “I am not so young.” 

The sentiment is so endearing that Will just has to pull him down for a kiss, smiling against his mouth even as he tastes himself. It’s rough and sloppy, but the look Hannibal gives him when he pulls away is so entirely worth it. 

“Good point. How about the bed next time?” Will brushes his hand down Hannibal’s chest, his fingertips just brushing along his shaft. “I think it’s time that I return the favor.”

“It _is_ long overdue.” 

Hannibal smiles when Will smacks his ass for the smartass comment, giving him a coy look as he saunters back to bed. 

Sure, things are still a little fucked up, and Will gets the sense that there are dark corners in Hannibal’s mind that will surprise even him, but as he follows Hannibal to bed, no journey has ever seemed more worthwhile.


End file.
